Libra
by Divide Zer0
Summary: A Supernatural oneshot based off of the song "Libra" by The Narrative about a girl who makes a crossroads deal with a sad, surprising twist near the end.


**This is a rather short, sad tale of a character who I came up with while listening to my favorite song, Libra by The Narrative (a song that I definitely recommend you listen to before and/or while you read), and has ever since been taking up my entire free writing time. Enjoy~!**

* * *

I walked silently down the road towards the end of the street. I hoped that any old intersection would work for the deal, because in Topeka, Kansas, there just aren't a whole lot of traditional crossroads around. This would have to do.

_Make a deal, trade your soul_

_for certainty_

_I've got the devil on my shoulder_

_and an angel at my feet_

_Don't need that look, don't need that bible fairytale_

_of what I've done; who I've become_

_Oh, I'm well aware but I'm so far in it._

It was night out, almost midnight. I figured that it would be safer that way, less likely for someone to find me and ask what I was doing.

_I_ barely even knew what I was doing. I'd gotten the ingredients list from my dad, of course. He knew about everything mythological or demon related. Graveyard dirt, he'd told me, was the first thing. Perfect. There's a cemetery next to the high school, not locked up or anything. I walk past it every day to get to and from junior high.

A bone from a black cat seemed hard to obtain when I first heard it, but it became easy enough when my friend Lizzie's cat, Shadow, had died earlier that month. All I needed to do was sneak under the fence and into Lizzie's yard. There was some trial and error at first, but after about an hour of digging around, I found the cardboard box with the deceased cat in it at the edge of the garden.

The last important object for the summoning was a picture of me. I could've just taken one with a camera and have it printed, but I figured that it would be easier to use my school ID badge. I could ask for a new one from the office if I couldn't get it back.

Kneeling down in the gravel of the road, I realized that I'd never just sat in the middle of the street like this before. I took out the tiny bag with my ingredients in it and emptied them out on the ground to make sure I had everything. My small jar of dirt was there, along with the cat bone.

"Rest in peace, Shadow," I whispered to myself, chuckling from nervousness.

I gripped my photo ID in my shivering fingers and ran my thumb over the picture.

I dug up some loose gravel from the pre-existing pothole there in the road and gently placed the objects inside.

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_Do I say it out loud?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_That I'm bound to back out?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_From here wouldn't stay, it's easy that way_

Smoothing the crushed rocks back over my small puncture in the street, I asked myself what I thought would happen. I guess I'd just been planning this for so long; I'd talked myself into believing in this stuff for a couple weeks.

I waited a few seconds before realizing that I was waiting for nothing. I stood up, and I didn't know if I was disappointed or not. All of that hard work was just me chasing fairy tales.

As I turned around to walk back to my house, something caught my eye. A shadow from behind the streetlight pole on the corner. There was a person leaning there lazily, a boy, who looked around my age. He wore dark clothes, but they looked good on him. And boy, was he was cute.

The boy looked up from something in his hands and pushed himself off the post. Walking out of the shadows and into the glow of the streetlight, I saw that the thing in his hand was my school ID card; the one I'd just buried.

"Mary Jo, Mary Jo," he cooed. "Summoning a demon, what would your father think?"

I stared blankly at the boy for a second while he further examined my photo ID.

"Only in eighth grade? Ouch." He looked back up at me. "Fourteen years old. I've never had the pleasure of making a deal with one so young."

"Fifteen years old, today," I corrected. "So, you're the demon, then? The one that buys souls?"

"Hm... well, I always thought that 'trade' was a better word for it, but yes. I suppose I am."

"You're so young, though. And you look completely human," I exclaimed, glancing at his curly black hair and tan skin.

"Correction," he told me, blinking his eyes. "Almost completely. When I want to be."

A breath caught in my throat. His eyes were completely red now, with a single tiny black dot in the center, a sick parody of a human pupil.

"Maybe we can get down to business now, hmm?" he said. "Quit all the small talk."

"Oh no," I drawled. "I know how this works."

He raised an eyebrow and gave a small grin, like he'd heard all this before.

"I tell you something that I want and then you flip it around and it turns out bad. Like someone wishing for fame but then getting too famous. Or someone wishing for love, but ending up with stalkers."

The demon chuckled. "You're almost _too_ smart, M.J.. It's too bad that your dad never told you about him. Making demon deals runs in the family, didn't you know?"

I took a step back. My dad had never told me that he'd actually _tried_ the summoning ritual. "You're trying to distract me or something."

_So sad that I'm the hint of life in your deserving eye_

_when every minute you spend hoping for love and respect_

_brings me closer to goodbye_

_The time will come_

_you find out who I really am_

_and we'll pretend_

_that we'll be friends_

_oh, when I do lie you only last a little while_

He shrugged. "Ignore me if you want. Just tell me what you want and I'll be on my way."

I stood up straight. "I want to be able to draw. And not just sketching or whatever. Landscapes, people, faces, animals, everything. I want to be the best artist in the world."

"No need for the narrative, darling."

"No, I don't want this to have any loopholes. It needs to be exact and specific. I want artistic talent, but also I want people to recognize my talent. People need to see it and think that it's good."

"Okay, okay, I've got it," the demon claimed, waving his hand. "Talent and fame, just the way you want it, I promise."

"So, how does this... work?" I asked.

"You'll get your wish. You'll be sought out by billionaires around the world for your talent. You'll live happily with your family and friends for ten long years."

"And then what?"

"Then you die."

I stayed quiet for a moment before asking, "And I end up in Hell? No matter what?"

The demon nodded, almost sadly. "But just think about it Mary. Ten years. A whole lot can happen in ten years. Imagine all of the things you could draw and paint and create in that time. You'd be out of high school, maybe even college. Twenty-five years old. That's a long way off, darling."

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_Do I say it out loud?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_That I'm bound to back out?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_Told me you wouldn't stay, it's easy that way_

I considered this. It was true. I'd get to finish high school, turn eighteen, and even after that I'd have seven more years to do whatever I wanted with my life! But I hesitated. What if I had a family by then? What if I got married or something?

I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Ten years was plenty of time to enjoy life.

"It's a deal," I told the demon.

He nodded. "Of course, darling. I knew you'd say yes."

"What now?" I asked after a moment of silence.

He laughed. "Now, we kiss."

"Right," I said, remembering the myths about crossroad demons. "So that's why you choose to look human."

The demon grinned. "Only the best for Mary Joanna Winchester."

He cupped my face in his hand and pressed his lips against mine. It only lasted a second, but I felt like I'd just done something extremely more important than just kiss someone. There was some kind of bond now; I could feel it in the air, around the demon.

His eyes melted back into normal human eyes, blue and cold. "I'll be back for you in exactly ten years, darling. At the stroke of midnight. September twenty-fourth shouldn't be too hard to remember, it being your birthday and all." He laughed.

I backed away, lazily. I didn't feel particularly different, honestly.

"No!" I heard from off to my left. I looked down the road and saw my dad standing in the middle of the street.

"Dad?" I asked, stunned.

The crossroad demon stepped forward and held his arms out wide. "Ah, Sammy Winchester! It's been awhile, hasn't it? I suppose you probably don't remember much of me, though."

My dad had an odd mix of fury and confusion on his face when he said, "Jo, get back!"

"I already made the deal, dad. I already made the deal!"

He shook his head. I didn't know what that was supposed to mean. I think it was him refusing to believe it.

"Ha ha!" the demon cackled. "Again and again! Round and round the Winchesters go. This is almost too good."

"Who are you!?" my father shouted at the demon.

The demon circled around me. I was too scared to move now. I was in deeper than I'd thought with this deal.

"Oh, you may not remember me, Sammy, but I certainly remember you. Drop dead drunk with a bottle in one hand and a knife in the other. _Pleading_ with me for your own _big brother_ back again, all the way from Hell. Said you would trade _anything_ for him, even your own life."

"What's he talking about?" I asked my dad. Dad didn't _have_ a brother. He didn't have _any_ family.

The demon continued while my father stayed silent, concentrating.

"And now I have your daughter's soul also. Well, in ten years I will, anyway. You do remember that, don't you, Sam? Not having a soul? Horrible thing, isn't it?"

"Shut up," my dad hissed.

"Too bad I have to let you go, M.J.. I thought we were really having a nice time together. When you get to Hell, I think you'll turn out a nice demon. What do you think, Sam?"

"Shut up!"

"Anyway, enjoy your art, darling. See you on your twenty-fifth birthday," the demon said as he vanished into thin air.

I ran to my dad and my dad ran to me.

"What was he talking about?" I asked frantically.

"No," my dad said, looking at me. "Not you too."

_The evidence keeps on building and I'm sinking in defense_

_Will a measurement_

_of intentions come_

_a guilty conscience?_

_So let the air tip the scales_

_let go; one honest judge decide_

_and you will find the facts weigh down to favor you in time_

Ten years later, I sat at my desk. The table top was covered in paper, some pieces scratched and torn, while others I was trying to keep neat, for someone to find later.

Everything was in order, all the preparations were set. I sat back and watched the clock. I'd finished my extremely detailed drawing of a young girl standing between a man and a boy, at a dark intersection. The boy had dark hair and red eyes, just as I remembered him.

Since I'd made my deal, both my father and my mother had passed away. He never did tell me exactly what the demon was talking about that night, about his brother.

I glanced at the clock. In a minute or so, it would be the day of my twenty-fifth birthday. I wasn't married, like I'd feared so many years ago on the night I made my deal. I didn't even have a boyfriend, much less a hint of a family.

I'd spent my years, counting down until my next birthday, every new year I gained, meant a year closer to being gone. Because of this, I felt like I'd wasted my life. I'd never let myself be happy. So I drowned myself in my work. My mother would've said that I was just like my dad.

As the clock struck midnight, I thought, _I should've wished for musical talent,_ and I laughed to myself.

"So, Mary Jo, will you come quietly," sounded a voice from the back of the room. "Or will I have to sic my hounds on you?"

I swiveled in my chair to look at the boy standing in the corner. He was just like I'd remembered. He still looked fourteen years old.

"I like your drawing there, I love how you captured my features and all."

"Thanks. I have to say, I enjoyed my trade very much."

"Well, I'm happy you appreciated it. Now, about my dogs-"

"Nah, nah," I said, pushing myself out of my chair and letting it fall back onto the ground. "I'll come quietly, as you put it."

"Right," he agreed, holding out his hand.

"But, tell me one thing first."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ten years ago, the night I made my deal. What did you say, about my dad having a brother? Did I really have an uncle?"

"I'll tell you on the way down, how 'bout?"

I stepped forward and took his hand. The world faded around us both. I wondered what Hell would be like.

"Who knows? You might even meet him down there somewhere."

"Oh, really?"

"Mm hmm. Oh, and there's one other thing I forgot to mention."

"Of course," I drawled. "I expected no less from a demon."

"No, just hear me out. It could be good for you."

The demon started explaining how I could get out of being tortured if I tortured other souls down here.

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_Do I say it out loud?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now_

_That I'm bound to back out?_

_What to do, oh, what to do now..._

I considered this deal and shrugged. "I've already hit rock bottom. What's there to stop me?"

"Now _that's_ the kind of thinking I like. Only the best for Mary Joanna Winchester."


End file.
